


The World’s Gone Mad

by orphan_account



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms
Genre: F/F, F/M, Non-consensual or dubious consent, Not sure — but more on the noncon side, Part was posted/deleted but ~halfish is new content, dirtybadwrong
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-14
Updated: 2018-07-14
Packaged: 2019-06-10 03:50:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,527
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15282942
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Queen Cersei kidnaps Sansa to bait her husband, King Jon Snow, who has pined for the Lady of Winterfell all these years.





	The World’s Gone Mad

**Author's Note:**

> Honestly if you’re easily triggered this will probably trigger you, so if that’s the case I beg you not to read on! Heed the ‘rape/non-con’ warning, though my personal headcanon is that Sansa enjoys it and it’s a heightened reality of kink, the situation can certainly only be defined as rape. So Jon is a rapist in this, as is Cersei.

In the end Cersei had won. It was not a dragon that conquered the North, but a lioness. And her prize was sweeter than she’d ever thought possible — Rhaegar Targaryen’s son delivered right into her bed. Somehow almost everything had worked out. Not only had her alliances sewn up the wounds of what remained of Westeros after the long night, after the royal wedding the people remembered how very much they loved their queen. She had ended up Cersei Targaryen after all (though her husband rarely deigned to be called Aegon. If she called out that name during the act he would immediately go soft within her).    
  
To be sure, there was a price. Most of her enemies were dead, but so was Jaime, and before he’d died he’d betrayed her. She didn’t have very many subjects left at all, but the smallfolk were base and would reproduce like rabbits. The iron bank had bought her a good enough harvest to feed those who mattered.    
  
If one thing truly bothered Cersei after the war, it was the shewolf’s resistance to her. Sansa remained at Winterfell under her traitorous husband’s protection, proclaiming herself it’s Lady. The gall of the treasonous little whore was jarring, but it was made worse by the king’s reluctance to set his men upon her.    
  
But even that had ended up in favour.   
  
Sansa Stark was delivered to her chambers and waited for Cersei on her knees with her wrists bound. Cersei saw no fear in the girl’s eyes, only contempt. The girl had always been careful of minding her tongue anyway, even if she hadn’t been gagged Cersei knew Ned Stark’s daughter wouldn’t have spoken.    
  
“I should have you killed,” Cersei spat. A large part of her wanted nothing more than to see Sansa Stark’s blood. “But I have something else in mind.”    
  
Cersei approached Sansa and brushed a long tendril of red hair from her eyes.    
  
“Such a pretty face,” Cersei said, stroking her cheek. Taena Merryweather had not sated Cersei, but perhaps having Ned Stark’s daughter tied to her bed would.   
  
Cersei leaned down to untie her hands.    
  
“Stand up,” she commanded, and Sansa obliged. “Take off your clothes.”   
  
Sansa’s hands did not falter as she did. Cersei almost admired the girl. Her body had it’s scars and the girl had clearly gone through worse things than her son’s beatings. The gods were cruel, but they had punished Sansa Stark for her treasons. Cersei grinned as Sansa disrobed, drinking her in until she stood naked before her.    
  
“On the bed.”   
  
Cersei picked up Sansa’s dress from the floor and followed Sansa to the bed. She did not touch Sansa, though her body was appealing. In her hands Cersei tore the green velvet of Sansa’s dress into a long strip and grabbed Sansa’s hand, tying it to a bedpost. She repeated the gesture, this time tearing an embroidered wolf in two. She tied Sansa’s other hand. The restraints were tight, there would be no escaping.    
  
Not that she’ll want to, Cersei thought, unable to contain a laugh as she did.   
  
There was something about her husband she noticed almost immediately. He was a Targaryen, that was true, but Sansa most certainly was not. Still, Jon Snow was infatuated with his sister. Cersei could tell. She did not think less of Jon for this, in fact she admired him for it. He was so dreadfully boring and honourable.    
  
She had taken an interest in Jon Snow and Sansa Stark’s romance. Cersei had always had a morbid curiosity, and this was just twisted enough to pique her interest. Cersei had read their letters, Qyburn had told her of the sweet songs his little birds sang, diplomats had told her of the King’s enduring love for his sister.    
  
Cersei was certain the affair was chaste. Jon would never act on such depraved thoughts on his own. And Sansa had always been a frigid little bitch.    
  
Cersei looked down at Sansa’s naked body and admired her work. Then she ripped the dress again and tied her feet to the bedposts, her legs spread wide. She ripped it one last time and blindfolded her.   
  
“There’s no need to fret,” Cersei said, at last running a finger down Sansa’s chest, between her breasts. “Your brother will be here soon. The king will save you.”   
  
It was true that Jon Snow did often call upon Cersei’s chambers. He did not love her, but he loved her cunt well enough and there was wicked things Cersei did to him that Sansa Stark couldn’t even imagine. But when the Queen left, she meant to find the king. In public he was courteous enough, an honourable and dutiful lord husband. If Cersei had been twenty years younger, perhaps she would appreciate that more. Perhaps she’d have turned out differently if she had come to Jon’s bed a maid.   
  
“I’ve a present for you,” Cersei told him when she found him in the throne room. “It’s too large for me to carry, it’s in my chambers.”   
  
Jon looked for any excuse he could to get out of holding court, so he nodded at her. “I’m afraid the queen needs me,” Jon said.    
  
Cersei extended her arm and Jon took it.    
  
It was not the first time Jon had dismissed the court to bed his wife, and perhaps that was all he was expecting. But as they approached the door, Cersei smiled wickedly. “I’ve brought you your heart’s desire.” She leaned in to kiss her husband, and when she pulled away, she whispered, “and you can touch her all you want. She’ll never know it’s you, and besides... king’s are meant to conquer.”   
  
Jon looked confused when Cersei smirked, but when she opened the door there his sister was, tied up and ready for him. They would all see what kind of man Jon Snow was. He loved the girl, that was true, but what was Jon Snow’s love worth?   
  
Cersei heard a groan from behind her as she walked to the bed. She sat on the edge and leaned over, finally letting herself touch Sansa. Cersei could be gentle when she wanted to, and with a delicate touch she caressed her prisoner.    
  
Jon moved to her bedside, following in her footsteps.   
  
Sure enough, he cupped one of the northern girl’s breasts in his hands. His thumb even caressed the nipple, it growing hard under his touch. She knows, Cersei thought, feeling deeply satisfied. They both wanted it.  Perhaps they could share the girl. Cersei would enjoy watching her husband take the girl he once called sister. Cersei would even take the girl’s gag off, so they could both listen to the delightful moans she was sure to make.   
  
But reluctantly Jon pulled his hands away from her and moved to untie her restraints.   
  
Cersei sighed, dissapointed. She should have known. All men were weak.

 

Jon had untied one of her hands and stripped her of her blindfold before Cersei came to her senses. it had been difficult to capture the Lady of Winterfell, her husband made certain enough for that. Every marriage had it’s consequences, but this was the hill that Cersei Lannister would die on.

 

“She’s my prisoner,” Cersei said, her voice cutting. “If you don’t want to use her, I will.”

 

When he turned to her, Jon’s face was so intense that Cersei barely recognized the man. “She’s mine.”

 

Sansa was still gagged, so even if she had something to say about the matter she was rendered silent. But Cersei could see the lust in Sansa’s eyes when she looked at the boy she used to call brother.  _ I’m doing her a favour _ , Cersei thought,  _ not that she deserves it _ .

 

Cersei raised an eyebrow and ran her hand up Sansa’s thigh. “I don’t think so. I’ve been waiting a long time to see her brought to justice. Your sister is a murderer, and a traitor to the realm.”

 

Jon growled under his breath.

 

Let him try to save this damsel in distress.Their marriage had been no love match, the safety of thousands and the lives of a dozen hostages are what sealed their union. Sansa was just one of them. How many lives was propriety worth? If he dared challenge her she might even let him be the hero.

 

But he said nothing. His jaw twitched and he looked away. Back towards his sister, no doubt pleading for her forgiveness with those soft puppydog eyes of his.

 

An idea came to mind, and Cersei moved to her feet. After all these years of using her body to get what she wanted she was good at taking off her clothes, and her little bird drank her in as keenly as her young husband did. They didn’t seem to know what to do, but she would show them the way.

 

Cersei climbed back onto the bed and unlaced Jon’s breeches. The boy was honourable, but for all his virtue he was still hard. He put up no fight as Cersei mounted him, though his eyes did not leave Sansa. 

 

Usually she made a huge fuss in bed, moaning more than necessary. Men all thought the world revolved around their cocks and they easily believed her each time she choked out a faked orgasm. Though nowadays Cersei rarely had to fake it — Jon Snow made Cersei’s body sing more than Robert or even Jaime ever had.

 

Cersei followed Jon’s gaze and looked over at Sansa as well. She tightened around him as she saw how helpless the little bitch was, and how aroused she was, despite being completely at Cersei’s mercy.

 

“Is it him you want?” Cersei asked, her eyes drifting down to Sansa’s hard nipples. “Or me?” Cersei yearned to reach her hand between Sansa’s legs and feel how wet the little whore was. 

 

Jon gave up his attempts at seeming unaffected by the display. He grabbed her waist and thrust his hips into hers. He was meeting her thrust for thrust, and Cersei was almost there, but she wanted something else more than she wanted release. Her own hands were more than enough for herself. She wanted a show.

 

“I’ve had my fill,” Cersei said, “but she hasn’t.”

 

“She’s… my sister,” Jon said, his voice pleading.

 

“Not really, and not like that matters. It shouldn’t, not to a Targaryen king. Not to any real man.”

 

Her own brother had been a good lay. There was nothing better than being fucked by somebody who would kill for you, and would die for you too.

 

Cersei’s hands moved to Sansa’s face. Her thumb rubbed against her lip before she removed the gag.

 

“And what have you to say? You want him to fuck you, don’t you?”

 

“N—noo…” Sansa choked out.

 

“Really?” Cersei choked out. Her hand ran down Sansa’s throat and to Sansa’s breast. She pinched a nipple between her fingers and the girl moaned. Sansa tried to close her legs, but Cersei had seen to that. “You don’t need to lie, not here. Not to me. I’ve always known who you are.”

 

“I… only want to go home,” Sansa said, this time her voice less certain. 

 

“Perhaps I’ll let you return to Winterfell,” Cersei’s hand drifted down further, finally landing on her cunt. It was wetter than Cersei had imagined. Cersei pushed two fingers into it. She was tighter than Cersei had thought she would be, but she was no maid. “If you still want to.” 

 

Sansa pushed herself into Cersei’s fingers just as Jon had pushed his hips into her cunt. These Starks were as frigid as the land they hailed from.

 

Cersei fucked her, pressing her fingertips against Sansa’s soft walls. But even though it was the queen that was making her moan, Sansa only had eyes for the king. Jon’s breeches were still pulled down, his cock hard and wet. She should make Jon fuck the little bitch’s face, make Sansa taste Cersei’s arousal, let the Lady of Winterfell know that it was Cersei who got to bed the former King in the North every night. 

 

“Jon,” Sansa gasped under her breath. 

 

Jon sighed, and just like that her noble husband seemed to break. 

 

Cersei moved aside and Jon’s hands were all over Sansa. She was moaning, beckoning him closer. “Jon,” she said again, and again, and again.

 

“Fuck her,” Cersei commanded. This time Jon listened. 

 

***

 

Sinking into Sansa was heaven. It was what Jon had wanted all along. He always thought of his sweet sister as he took his marriage rights. He knew it was wrong to watch his wife fuck his sister, to violate her so. But he grew so hard he almost burst apart. He’d imagined this scene before, he’d dreamt of taking Sansa into his marriage bed along with Cersei. 

 

It was a moment of weakness, and Jon tore himself apart from her before a minute had passed. 

 

To his great surprise, there was disappointment in Sansa’s eyes. The possibility that she enjoyed it made him feel half insane. He paid no mind to the evil eye Cersei must be giving them as he worked to untie the last of the ropes that bound his sweet sister. 

 

“You really are a fool,” Cersei said from behind him, sighing. 

 

“I don’t want somebody who doesn’t have a choice,” Jon said.

 

Cersei raised an eyebrow. She reached out and grabbed Jon’s cock, still wet from being inside his sister. “Yes you do. Besides, shouldn’t you let her decide if she wants it? You barely gave her a taste. Or maybe you’d rather taste her? Sansa, little dove, you wouldn’t believe the things your brother could do with his mouth…”

 

Jon would never let his wife have the satisfaction of knowing how very much Jon wanted to continue ravishing his sister. 

 

To his great surprise, Sansa asked, “what does she mean, with your mouth?”

 

“Do you want him to show you?” Cersei asked. She moved closer to Sansa on the bed. Cersei ran a hand along Sansa’s cheek, and then down her chest and between her legs. Jon wanted to strangle his wife, as he so often did, almost as much as he wanted to fuck her.

 

Jon removed Cersei’s hand from his sister. “She’s mine,” he growled. 

 

“Do you want to be his, little dove? Or mine?”

 

Sansa swallowed. She almost looked indecisive, as if she wanted to be degraded by the King and Queen. “His,” she answered at last, raising her chin, defiantly. She reached out to grab Jon’s hand. Jon’s heart hurt at the surprising tenderness. He was supposed to save her, not violate her, and yet…

 

Jon grabbed one of the ties Cersei had made out of Sansa’s ripped dress. He was much stronger than Cersei and it was easy for him to overpower his wife — in fact, she often enjoyed it. He bound her hands together and tied her to the bedpost. She was unable to stop him, but green her eyes flickered like wildfire. He grabbed another of the ties and used it as a makeshift blindfold. Cersei would not have the satisfaction of seeing what he was about to do. 


End file.
